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Emmrich watches quietly from the shadows as Laisal buries his face in his hands in front of the fire. He’d come in to make a batch of tea, but he’s not sure how to make his presence known now that he sees the dining room is occupied.
It does give him a moment to observe, to see where the cracks are forming, where he needs to shore up their Rook to keep him from falling to pieces. Maker knows he deserves the chance to fall apart, to let out everything he keeps hidden behind a smile and a friendly tone. It’s obvious in the moments the mask slips just how much emotion is hidden behind it. The anger and grief that shows through when he’s reached a limit far past what any normal person should have - the moments he apologizes for later, though Emmrich tries to convince him he doesn’t need to. Anyone would struggle under the burden Laisal carries, and he would be more concerned if it didn’t affect him.
Still, Emmrich has heard the choked cries from his room late at what passes for night in the Lighthouse, and the circles under those beautifully blue eyes are deepening by the day. He falls asleep at dinner with a concerning frequency, and Emmrich knows he isn’t the only one to notice it. The others encourage him to sleep when he can, but… it seems the nightmares are keeping him awake more than anything else. Perhaps he can offer something to aid with them-
“I don’t know what to do,” Laisal says softly, and he almost jumps, thinking he’s been caught- but no, Assan’s soft chirp speaks to who his audience is. It isn’t surprising, but… he’d like to think their Rook knows he can talk to any of them; he’s done so much for all of them himself, without asking anything in return. “I- I’m just tired, I think. Don’t worry about me, boy.”
The griffon bumps his head up under Laisal’s hand, and he winces - yes, that was the arm that had taken the brunt of an Antaam shield attack yesterday. In the following chaos and post-battle exhaustion, Emmrich had forgotten to check it over, and he bites back a sigh. It’s not likely anyone had looked at it, including Laisal. He tries to remember to check on him, but… how many injuries has he missed, just because they’ve been too busy, and Laisal never said a word? He’ll have to be more diligent, especially if he’s to accept the advances being made. He wants to, certainly, but there is a responsibility for another’s welfare that comes with love. Not, of course, that he wouldn’t care for Laisal’s welfare without it, but it only makes it more important. If he doesn’t care for himself, then Emmrich will have to care enough for both of them.
It takes a moment for Emmrich to realize what the quiet sound from the fire is - Laisal has shifted to his knees in front of the chair, his arms wrapped around Assan while he sobs near-silently into the griffon’s feathers. Assan preens his hair, sad chirrups leaving him while he tries, in his own griffon-like way, to comfort him.
He’s moving before he knows it, and Laisal jerks at the hand on his shoulder, but Emmrich doesn’t flinch. “It’s alright,” he says, soft and gentle, “It’s only me. Do- would you like to talk things over? You don’t have to be alone.”
Laisal wipes his tears quickly with a wet laugh. “I don’t know, Assan is a pretty good listener. Don’t-”
“Please, don’t ask me not to be concerned. I can handle a little extra worry.” He gives him a reassuring smile. “I’ll make tea, then we’ll talk. You needn’t carry all of this alone.”
“I-” Laisal tries for a smile of his own, as Assan butts his beak up against his cheek, but it lasts less than a second before it falters again, “I can handle it.” He sounds so sure when he says it, the kind of stubbornness inherent to youth, but another few moments of silence pass before his shoulders slump. “Thank you.”
Emmrich finishes heating the tea before he carries over two cups for them. “You don’t need to carry this alone,” he says again, “You have a heavy burden, but you aren’t alone. Let us help. Let me help, if no one else.” He reaches out, takes Laisal’s hands in his. “I care about you, and that means that I want to help. You are not burdening me with anything, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
Laisal looks up at him, clearly torn, before he whispers, “I don’t know how.”
“Then we’ll start small. What happened today?”
It might not be enough, but he needs Laisal to know that he isn’t alone, no matter how small the starting steps are, to shore up those places where the cracks have formed.